Ashes of Us
1263 Words
Chapter Fourteen: Ashes of Us
Ronan could still clearly remember the day he and Michelle went their separate ways.
The apartment was cold when Ronan stepped inside.
Not just in temperature—but in soul.
It was a place that had once been filled with music, laughter, wine, lies. Now, it was stripped of joy. Stripped of love.
Much like the people who lived in it.
Michelle sat on the edge of the cream leather couch, wine glass in hand, half-empty. Her designer heels were kicked off. Her lipstick was smeared, eyes puffy from what she would never admit were tears.
“You’re late,” she said without looking up.
Ronan dropped his keys onto the counter. The sound echoed—sharp, final.
“I wasn’t planning to come back.”
She looked up slowly, arching a brow. “But you did.”
He exhaled through his nose, shoulders tense. “Only to end it properly.”
Michelle gave a breathy, humorless laugh. “End it? We’ve been ending for years, Ronan. This is just the obituary.”
The Final Reckoning
She stood, her wine sloshing in the glass as she crossed the room. “So, what is this now? Another lecture? A last stab at dignity?”
He faced her, voice calm but hoarse. “No more pretending. I’m done.”
She scoffed. “You left me hanging in front of the world, Ronan. After everything I did—for us.”
“No,” he said, eyes narrowed. “After everything you did to them. You stole a baby from her mother. Lied to the court. And I—I stood beside you like a coward.”
Michelle’s eyes sparked. “I did it for you.”
“No,” he snapped. “You did it because you could. Because it gave you power. Because you were afraid Catherine would always be more than you—more loved, more real.”
Her jaw tightened. “Don’t you dare—”
“She was,” Ronan said. “She still is.”
Michelle flinched as if struck.
Truth in the Ruins
She poured more wine with a trembling hand. The bottle tipped, spilling onto the marble countertop. A crimson stain spread like blood, and she didn’t even try to wipe it.
“I gave up everything for you,” she whispered. “My career. My family. My pride.”
“No,” Ronan said. He walked over, picked up a napkin, and mopped the spill slowly. “You gave it up for a version of me that never existed.
For the illusion that hurting her would make me love you.”
She stared at him—face bare of pretense now. “I thought... if I could just be her, you’d finally see me.”
“I saw you,” he said quietly. “And the more I did... the more I wanted to look away.”
Michelle’s mouth trembled. “You never loved me.”
“I tried,” Ronan admitted. “But love doesn’t grow in shadows. And that’s all we ever had—secrets, manipulation, regret.”
The Daughter She Abandoned
Silence lingered until Michelle set her wine down and dropped onto the couch.
“I’m selling the apartment,” she said.
Ronan blinked. “I just told you it’s yours.”
“I don’t want it,” she snapped. “Everything in this place is soaked in failure.”
He stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. “What about—our daughter?”
Michelle’s eyes went blank. “She’s with you, isn’t she?”
“That’s not an answer,” he said coldly.
Michelle rose again, voice cracking like glass. “I can’t do this, Ronan. Every time I look at her, I see the day Catherine found out. The courtroom. Your silence. The headlines. I feel like I’m choking—”
“She’s a child!” Ronan shouted, the first time his voice raised all night. “Our daughter! And you’re treating her like a consequence!”
Michelle burst into tears, backing toward the window.
“I never wanted to be a mother!” she sobbed. “I wanted you. Not diapers. Not PTA meetings. Not being compared to her—Catherine.
Every damn day!”
“And what does she get?” Ronan’s voice was steel. “To grow up thinking she wasn’t enough? That her own mother resented her for existing?”
Michelle wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m not fit to raise her. I never was.”
Ronan’s jaw clenched. “Then don’t. But don’t pretend you’re doing her a favor by vanishing. Say it for what it is—you’re leaving.”
“I’m leaving,” Michelle whispered. “I’m walking away. And I won’t fight you for custody.”
Ronan turned away, chest hollowing with the realization.
He had gained a daughter…
But lost any respect for the woman who gave her to him.
The Ending They Deserved
“I’ll handle the papers,” Ronan said quietly, his voice like the closing of a heavy door. “You won’t hear from me again.”
Michelle stood frozen, her once perfectly painted face now streaked with tears and mascara. Her hands trembled as she wiped them away, as if she could erase the damage with the swipe of her fingers.
“So that’s it?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “After everything?”
“That’s it,” he repeated. Final. Unshakable.
“No forgiveness?” she asked, eyes searching his face for any flicker of softness, any trace of the man who once looked at her with warmth.
He paused.
“No,” he said at last, each word deliberate. “Not from me.”
Her lip trembled, pain slicing through her pride. “Do you think…” she swallowed, “do you think Catherine will ever forgive us?”
His response came without a blink, without breath.
“I hope not.”
The silence that followed was deeper than grief. Michelle gasped softly—not in protest, but in understanding. There was no more illusion to cling to, no delusion left to wear like armor.
She had destroyed something irreplaceable—trust, family, love—and now she stood alone in the ruins of her own making, barefoot in the ashes.
Ronan turned to leave, not in anger but in resolution. The kind that came after too many sleepless nights and too much silence. There was no more punishment left to serve—only the quiet, brutal consequence of truth.
Michelle sank to the floor as the door clicked shut behind him.
And in the echo of that sound, she finally understood:
Some endings weren’t cruel.
They were just... deserved.
The Door That Closed
Ronan walked to the door. His hand rested on the handle. But before he opened it, he said quietly:
“You never lost to Catherine, Michelle. You lost to yourself.”
Then he stepped into the hall.
No slamming.
No shouting.
Just the quiet click of a door that would never open again.
Michelle stood motionless, the silence a tomb. She looked at the wine stain—deep red, drying—and sank to the floor.
For the first time in years, she cried.
Not for Ronan.
Not even for the child she left behind.
But for herself.
Because she had spent her life chasing something she never understood: love.
And when it finally came back to collect its due, it left her with nothing but echoes.
- Writer
